Happy Father’s Day

First Father’s Day without my dear father-in-law. He really was like a second father to me. It’s been a rough few years, and especially few months for him, my husband, and us. It’s the 19th father’s day without my own father. Not a day goes by still that I don’t think of him. I am missing them both so much…

But, I had a dream last night – which is amazing in itself, because I hardly slept. I’ve been doing a lot of tossing and turning these days. But there was at least a few moments where I did drift off enough… to where I got to “see” them both (and my mother-in-law too, actually). I got to hear their voices, and their laughter. I don’t remember everything clearly, but they were happy & they were saying hello, and trying to cheer me up. I was asking them if they were okay… and happy where they were now… and, then somehow that turned into me whining about how worried I am lately. Scared shitless, really… and then about how much I miss talking to my Dad. I could use a good game of gin, cup of coffee and long conversation with him these days.

My Dad reminded me of midnight swims we took when I was a kid, and the special milkshakes we use to create… I hadn’t thought of that in ages. “Peanut-butter elephants”, “Licorice giraffes”, “Green grasshoppers”, and my favorite – “Mid-summer night chillers”. Those are the kinds of memories he wanted me to have of him today. Not sad ones. He also reminded me that my boys are here with me still. I have much to be thankful for. This could have been a much, MUCH, worse father’s day.

I woke up crying and missing them all the more… not wanting them to leave me… again. But it was also so good to “see” them, to “hear” their voices… their laughter. The epitome of “bittersweet”, I guess.

It was good reminder that, like always, our parents wouldn’t want me/us to be sad. Not anymore than I want my own children to be sad. They would want us to enjoy today… & celebrate the dads – and loved ones still with us. Like we would do with them if they were here. And I just so happen to be married to one of the best Dads ever… and he deserves a great father’s day today.

So, Happy Father’s Day to my Honey I love you so much! Thank you for always doing whatever you can for our boys & the constant love & devotion to our family. And, Happy Father’s Day to all you other great dads out there… Never doubt the impact you have on your children. May you all feel the love & appreciation you deserve today… just like your Dads (& theirs) would want for you.

“The wheel goes round”.

~ smj

Sarah McLachlan, ‘Song For My Father’

firefly nights

fireflies escaping
like sparks flying off the fire
joining stars and you

                       – smj, 5/18/2019

—————

Just a little haiku I wrote for my cousin.  I was thinking of childhood memories of parties at their old house… and, of chasing fireflies.  We would run through the fields at their house in the night… trying not to trip over the dark while following the sporadic flashes.  If we were lucky, we’d manage to catch a few fireflies, and when we did, we would put them in a mason jar with some holes in the lid.  We thought we could use them as a lantern.

We would keep them for a bit, but I never wanted to keep them long.  I was afraid they would die (thanks Dad).  So I’d let them go… sometimes unbeknownst to my cousins while they were busy desperately trying to catch more.  Besides, the flies just were not nearly as beautiful or impressive up-close.  They just looked like…. well… flies (with big glowy butts).   But, with a little added distance?  Oh my. They became magical… mystical…  lighting up in the dark sky if only for a second… here… then there…. then, wait… where?

I still see them in my backyard sometimes.  I don’t try to catch them anymore. My boys are also too old now for that.  I don’t think they were ever as impressed by them as I was anyway.  Am.  I still am.  I still like to watch them flicker on and off, until they are too far away to see and I lose track of them.  They remind me of  the sparks flying off a bonfire… billowing with the smoke up to the stars.  I like to try to follow those as well… watch as they rise up to the heavens…  until they fade into grey ashes that join us once again.  Or until they just mysteriously disappear all together.  Possibly morphing into yet another distant star against the black sky.  Who’s to say?

 

Read Between the Signs

I keep seeing signs of you,
or from you.  I’m not sure which.
Or what you may be
trying to tell me.  Or if
it’s even you.  Is it?

Seems like a bit much
to be coincidental. Feels too persistent
to ignore. Too constant
to forget.  In the background, but
always there. Much like you
were in real life.

I miss the days when we talked
so much that we didn’t need to
anymore.  We only had to think it
not say it, but we knew we’d
always say it anyway.

I still see your eyes smiling
as you listened and talked and listened.
“I can read you like a book!”, you’d brag.
And, you could.  As I could you.
Usually.  We kept a few secrets.

Now, my inherited skepticism
is louder than all the forty-twos in the world.
I’d love to believe… but, it’s not like me
to not know you.  I’m not good
at reading in-between these signs.

~ smj

 

 

Stars,  Grace Potter And The Nocturnals

Play

Orange record player
First class ticket out of Dodge
“Puppy Love” express

————

I vaguely remember, the time when I was just little… and my older brother taught me how to write my name.

I remember being very proud of myself.  My brother seemed proud of me too.  And he told me that we could now play a game… a great, fun, NEW game.  I eagerly and happily awaited his instructions.  I would do just about anything my older brother told me to do when I was little.  Something I grew out of, thankfully, but not before learning some lessons the hard way.  This was going to be one of those lessons.

I remember my brother giving me an orange crayon… and he said, “I’m going to go out of your room and count to 100.  When I come back in, anything that does not have your name on it – is mine.”

You would think that

Looking Up

wandering thoughts caught
frozen in shades of gray, still
she was looking up

~smj

Blackbird, Paul McCartney & Wings